Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

Chapter 280 Luna: We are the same kind of people
Bool and Derek, the two batters, were equally determined, each wielding a bat and driving the two stray balls toward Harry's back.

The ball grazed Harry's arm and flew past, hitting the stands in the distance and sending dust flying from the wooden planks.

Bohr's bat was about to hit Harry's broom handle.

Malfoy was only one body length away from him.

Harry suddenly slammed the broom handle down in mid-air.

As if it had come to life, the fire bolt suddenly rose up, almost perpendicular to the ground, and carried Harry straight into the sky.

The change happened so fast that Bolt couldn't stop his momentum, and Derek couldn't brake either.

The two players' bats collided with a loud clang, sending sparks flying.

Bol yelled in pain, clutching his arm and staggering.

Derek was knocked off the broom and nearly fell off. He managed to grab the broom handle, but his hat fell off, revealing his bald head.

Malfoy couldn't dodge in time and his chin hit Bor's broom handle, making his eyes red with pain.

"Ha—hahahaha!"

Lee Jordan's laughter nearly shattered the loudspeaker. "Hey! What do you call this? reaping what you sow! Dude, with your reaction speed, you think you can catch a fire bolt? I suggest you get up two hours earlier tomorrow and go practice shuttle runs with the hippogriffs in the Forbidden Forest!"

The Gryffindor students in the stands were laughing so hard they were doubled over.

Even Hufflepuff's students were slapping their thighs in amazement.

The girls from Ravenclaw covered their mouths, their smiles barely concealed.

Luna, who was next to Dylan, shook her head.

Her lion-head hat also seemed to open its mouth, as if imitating Lee Jordan's laughter.

But the roar still sounded majestic.

It's probably because I've been holding it in for too long.

Now I can finally hold my head high.

Lee Jordan's commentary became completely uninhibited.

He spoke into the microphone, listing all of Slytherin's unsavory little tricks one by one, using sharp and biting language.

He even made a few jokes about the silver and green color scheme on their team uniforms.

Professor McGonagall listened intently from the commentary booth, her brow twitching.

Several times I reached out to snatch the megaphone from his hand.

“Mr. Jordan!” Her voice was icy cold. “If you can’t remain objective—”

"I'm sorry, Professor! I'm so sorry!" Lee Jordan's voice immediately softened, with a trembling tone that sounded like he was trying not to laugh. "I promise, I will give a serious commentary from now on and I will not embellish it!"

He did try to tone it down a bit, but the excitement in his voice was impossible to hide.

"Score report: Gryffindor 30 to 10! Slytherin just scored through Warrington, it seems they're not going to give up so easily."

That being said, the situation on the field became increasingly unfavorable.

The tension between the two sides was like ignited gunpowder, ready to explode at any moment.

With Slytherin trailing by two goals, his fouls became increasingly reckless, the wind generated by each collision carrying a fierce force.

Bor charged over, swinging his bat, aiming at the ball, but the tip of the bat was off by half a foot and hit Aria's arm squarely.

Arya groaned in pain and almost dropped.

Bor shrugged innocently and called out to Mrs. Hooch, who was flying over.

"I misread it! I mistook her red hair for the color of a ball!"

No sooner had he said that than George rode off on his broomstick.

As he passed Bor, he suddenly raised his elbow and hit Bor's chin.

Bohr's head was thrown back from the impact, and the whistle that had been in his mouth at some point fell out.

"Beep-beep-"

Mrs. Hooch's whistle was as urgent as an alarm.

She flew between the two of them, her silver-gray hair standing on end.

"Gryffindor and Slytherin each get an extra penalty! George Weasley! Boor! If you do that again, you're ejected! I mean it!"

Wood is on the Gryffindor goal area.

He aimed for Slytherin's free throw, leaped off the broom, and gripped the Quaffle tightly with one hand.

He nearly tumbled off the broom when he slammed it back down, but luckily his legs managed to hook onto the handle in time.

"Forty to ten! Gryffindor scores another ten!"

Lee Jordan's voice rose again, "Wood's move was absolutely brilliant! He was practically guarding the goal with his body!"

The Slytherin players were clearly embarrassed, and they became even more hurried.

"Katie Bell got the ball! She charged forward—goal! Beautiful!"

Lee Jordan was so excited he almost swallowed the megaphone.

"Fifty to ten! Gryffindor leads by forty points! Katie's shot was more powerful than a dragon's flame! I love this girl's accuracy!"

Fred and George immediately rode brooms to Katie's side, the two of them like two gatekeepers, waving bats to protect her on either side, clearly afraid of Slytherin's retaliation.

Slytherin didn't dare touch Kitty again, but they took their anger out on Wood.

The two roaming balls seemed to have eyes, bumping into his back and shoulders one after the other.

Wood groaned, his body arching forward abruptly as he tumbled through the air, clutching the broom handle. His face was as white as paper, and his lips were bleeding from being bitten. He was clearly in considerable pain.

"Beep——!"

Madam Hooch's whistle nearly broke as she flew to the Slytherin team, her broom head almost hitting Derek's face: "Slytherin deliberately attacked the goalkeeper! Penalty! Gryffindor penalty!"

Angelina held the Quaffle, her eyes burning with a tiny flame.

The wind she created during her run-up whipped up bits of grass, and the ball she threw flew like a cannonball, grazing the goalkeeper's fingertips as it went into the net.

"Sixty to ten!" Lee Jordan shouted hoarsely. "Angelina made that shot for Wood! Well done!"

Harry circled around the field, his eyes fixed on the sky, clearly focused on finding the thief.

Just then, Fred suddenly used his bat to hit a stray ball toward Warrington.

Warrington hurriedly dodged, dropping the Quaffle from his hand.

Arya reacted quickly, catching the ball and throwing it into their goal before the Slytherins could react.

"Seventy to ten! Gryffindor scores another ten!" Lee Jordan's voice almost shook the court. "That play! It was absolutely perfect!"

The Gryffindor students in the stands went wild, their screams and cheers rising like a tidal wave, almost causing the wooden planks of the stands to collapse.

Ron, standing in the front row, had half his body leaning out of the railing, his face flushed red, his throat practically steaming from shouting, and his wizard hat waving like a small flag.

Dylan felt a little hot, so he took a silver candy wrapper out of his pocket, tapped it with his wand, and the wrapper instantly transformed into a tall glass. He then said "Clear spring water" to the glass, mixed in some grape juice, and a small lid automatically closed on the rim to prevent the aroma from escaping.

He had just taken a sip when Luna turned her head, her pale golden eyes staring curiously at the cup in his hand, and blinked: "What is this?"

"It's nothing." Dylan moved his cup aside, avoiding her gaze. "Aren't you watching the game?"

"The match was exciting, but your cup was even more interesting."

Luna leaned closer and whispered, "When I was three years old, my dad accidentally poured too much mead while making honey pie, so he let me taste it."

He said it tasted like an adult.

She paused, wrinkled her nose, and said, "But I don't like mead; it's too sweet."

"Did you add grape juice to your wine? I think it tastes better as pure wine."

Dylan's eye twitched. He secretly tested the glass with his wand to make sure there was no trouble ahead before conjuring another glass, filling it with pure wine, and handing it to her.

"Thank you." Luna accepted it without hesitation, tilted her head back and took a big gulp, emptying half the glass of wine in an instant.

Anyone else would have been drunk by now, but she didn't even blush. Her eyes were still bright and sparkling. It seems she wasn't exaggerating when she said she had a high alcohol tolerance.

"Gryffindor free throw!"

Mrs. Hooch's whistle pierced the field once again, carrying an unprecedented rage.

She sat astride the broom, her chest heaving violently, clearly furious.

"I have never seen such outrageous behavior!"

It just happened.

Harry's firebolt almost caught up with the Golden Snitch.

The golden light from the thief's wings was reflected on his glasses.

Malfoy chased after him on his broomstick, sweating profusely, and the distance between them was widening.

He suddenly leaned forward, reached out and grabbed the end of the firebolt, forcefully pulling Harry's broom down.

Harry's body swayed, causing him to miss the best opportunity to catch the thief.

Startled, the golden thief darted into the sky and quickly disappeared into the clouds.

"Shameless bastard!"

Lee Jordan's roar exploded through the loudspeakers, making the ears of those in the stands ring. "It's utterly despicable! To resort to such tactics—"

The words that followed became increasingly offensive, a barrage of vulgar language raining down like hail, causing even the players on the field to pause slightly.

Normally, Professor McGonagall would have spoken up to stop it long ago.

This time, however, when Dylan looked toward the teachers' table, he saw Professor McGonagall standing there, one hand clenched into a fist, the other gripping the scoreboard tightly, and muttering something under her breath.

Although the specific content was unclear, the glare directed at the Slytherin team looked even more frightening than Lee Jordan's roar.

When it was Arya's turn to shoot the free throw, her hands holding the Quaffle were trembling.

She was probably furious. She threw the ball with great force, but it went way off course, flying directly over the goalpost and crashing into the stands behind, which drew a burst of laughter from the Slytherin students.

Not only her, but the other Gryffindor players all had anger on their faces and were obviously impatient. Even Wood's voice was a few decibels louder than usual when he was directing the team in the goal area.

On the other hand, the Slytherin players wore smug expressions.

Malfoy even gestured with his chin toward Harry, and the group huddled together whispering something, occasionally letting out a soft laugh; their morale was clearly high.

"This match is really infuriating to watch," Dylan couldn't help but sigh.

“Don’t worry.” Luna turned her head, her face still calm, but her eyes were very determined. “Gryffindor will win this round.”

Dylan paused for a moment, then chuckled softly, "Yeah, I knew they could win."

"I know you know I know."

Luna's eyes were somewhat vacant, and her voice was light and airy, carrying her unique ethereal quality.

"After all, we are the same kind of people."

Dylan's interest was piqued by her words, and he raised an eyebrow, asking, "Oh? What do you mean?"

"Have you ever seen a harassing fly?" Luna asked earnestly, her gaze refocusing on his face.

Dylan paused, then shook his head: "Never heard of it, what is it?"

“They are tiny, invisible creatures.” Luna stretched out her finger and gestured lightly in the air, as if describing what they looked like. “They can sneak into people’s ears and make them overthink, messing up their thoughts.”

She paused, then added, "Many people have them around them, even Professor Dumbledore occasionally has a few, but the number is very small."

She raised her hand, waved it in the air as if to drive away something unseen, then pushed it towards Dylan before withdrawing her hand and speaking earnestly.

“But they’re not around you. Not only are they not around, they seem to avoid you. I just tried to shoo one of them toward you, and it flew away immediately.”

Luna looked at Dylan, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, and said with a hint of genuine admiration, "You're really amazing."

"Well……"

Dylan responded with a drawn-out sound and then blinked.

My gaze swept carefully in the direction Luna had just waved.

The air was empty, except for a few blades of grass swept up by the wind.

He muttered to himself.

According to Luna, these harassing horseflies seem to personify the troubles in people's hearts.

But I clearly have a lot of worries of my own, how could I not see them?
Could this really be some kind of spiritual being that only manifests to specific people?
It seems I have no talent in this area and am destined to never see it.

"Thank you for the compliment?"

There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

After all, being praised as "amazing" is because of something invisible and intangible, which is quite mysterious.

Luna didn't reply, but gave a soft "hmm" and turned back to look at the court.

Just as she turned her head to face the arena—

A deafening scream suddenly erupted from the field.

Harry was hovering low in the air on his Firebolt, his eyes fixed on a tiny golden glimmer in the distance.

That's a golden thief that just emerged from the clouds!

He reacted almost instinctively, leaning his body forward and spreading his arms wide. In fact, he released his grip on the broom handle while flying at high speed and lunged towards the golden light!

Seeing this, Malfoy's expression changed drastically. He frantically urged the broom on, almost lying on it, and reached out to grab the thief.

His fingertips were less than half a foot away from the shimmering wings, almost touching them—

Harry was even faster!

He drew a daring arc in the air, his right hand precisely covering the fluttering little creature, his five fingers tightening sharply!

(End of this chapter)